by Мишель Роуэн
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Anyhow, I’m going to go. You two shouldn’t stick around here long, either. Peter will be coming for you.”
“He does seem the stubborn type, doesn’t he?”
“He told me something while the two of you were in the bathroom, and I… I wasn’t going to say anything, but…”
“What?”
“He said that there’s something major going on. That before they move on this year, they’ll have wiped out nearly every vamp in the city.”
“I thought that was their plan to start with. The whole hunting-season thing. Kill as many vamps as possible, then go drink beer at Clancy’s to celebrate.”
He frowned and shook his head. “No, Peter was talking about something different. We…”
He paused. “They do try to take out as many as possible, usually out in the open, but not a complete massacre of every vampire within a hundred-mile radius. This is bigger than anything I’ve ever heard of before.”
My breath caught. “Do you think he was just bragging? Blowing some hot macho air?”
“I thought so myself, but he went on about it for a while. Like there s some master plan this year. Something even I didn’t know about, not that that surprises me. My father has never been all that forthcoming with his plans. I think this is for real, though. He said that they have an insider.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“An informant. Sounds like it could be a vampire who’s giving up names and locations.”
A vampire traitor willing to sell out his peers. How horrible was that? That must be why some of the secret clubs had been hit this year. For all I knew, Midnight Eclipse might be next on the list. And Veronique had said they’d be open for business as usual tonight. I had to tell Thierry to be careful.
I looked at Quinn. “Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Be safe, Sarah.”
He held my gaze for a few moments and then turned to walk away.
“Bye, Quinn,” Amy called cheerily after him. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“You,” I said to Amy, “should go home.”
She smiled at me. “Yeah, as if that’s going to happen. Where are we going now?”
“Nowhere I’m taking you.”
She frowned. “When did you get all serious?”
“Serious situations call for serious facial expressions. Now go home.”
“No.” She crossed her arms.
“Go home or I’ll bite you.”
She bared her neck. “Go ahead, I’d like to see you try.”
I scrunched my nose. “Gross. Fine, be that way. Come with me. Just promise to be quiet and well behaved. Don’t say anything, and look as mean as you can.”
“I can do that.”
I snagged the first cab that came along and gave him the address to Midnight Eclipse. I didn’t want to go there. I didn’t want to see Thierry again after our exchange this afternoon, but I could do it. I had to. I’d just march right in there and tell him what Quinn had told me. Then I’d leave, job done, and never have to see him again. Sounded simple enough.
But then I had a flashback to what it had felt like when he’d kissed me in my bedroom in Abottsville. So wonderful, so perfect, so incredible. And then to have it all dashed against the rocks so fast. It was difficult. All I wanted him to do was take me into his arms and tell me that it had all been an elaborate practical joke. There was no wife. That he only said the cruel things to me to find out how I really felt about him. And everything was wonderful and perfect, and we’d ride into the sunset together, dark sunglasses firmly in place, in his gorgeous black Audi. And we’d live happily ever after.
But I wasn’t that stupid. Happily-ever-after was just for fairy tales. I’d never read a fairy tale with a vampire in it. Those were horror stories, and nobody lived happily ever after in those.
“You’re quiet,” Amy said in the back of the cab. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I wiped a stray tear away.
“Sarah!” she exclaimed. “Tell me what’s wrong!”
I looked at her and revised my answer. “Everything.”
She nodded as if she understood and didn’t prod me for any more answers. When the cabdriver pulled in front of the tanning salon, Amy fished into her purse to pay. She looked confused by our location but dutifully followed me through the front doors like a good friend. Barry was at the front desk in his usual small black tuxedo. He sprang to his feet and walked over to block the black door.
“Oh,” he said disdainfully. “You’re back.”
“Yes,” I said. “And you’re short. I need to see Thierry.”
He was about to reprimand me for not calling him “master” for the thirtieth bloody time when he looked past me to Amy. His mouth dropped open, exposing his tiny fangs. I turned to see Amy staring back at him.
Then I could have sworn two cupids appeared above us and shot arrows into both of their hearts. Strange but true: it was love at first sight I raised my eyebrows. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Barry practically ran to Amy and took her hand in his, kissing it gently. “My name is Barry Jordan, and I am at your service, lovely lady.”
“Gag me,” I said.
She shot me a look. “Amy,” she offered, blushing prettily. “Amy Smith.”
“And I thought I was going to be sick before.” They didn’t respond to me. “Okay, forget it. You two keep each other company. I won’t be long.”
I pushed open the entrance to the club. It was busier than I’d expected. Nearly every table was full. The band was onstage; the music almost too loud for conversation. From behind the bar Zelda spotted my entrance and motioned for me to come over.
“Hey,” she said with a fanged smile as I approached. “Long time no see.”
“In the grand scheme of things, it hasn’t been all that long.” I wearily swung onto an empty bar stool and looked at the crowded, smoky club.
“You’re more philosophical than you were three days ago.” She pushed a shot of blood toward me. Hopefully, it was on the house, since I currently had about fifty cents to my name.
“I guess it’s been a philosophical kind of week. The kind of week that makes you consider taking a bath with a plugged-in toaster. Busy in here, huh?”
Zelda glanced around as she made another round of drinks and arranged them on a serving tray. “Fewer clubs are staying open these days, so the ones that are get the overload.”
George appeared next to me and flashed me one of his fabulous Chippendale smiles. “Hey, gorgeous. I was worried I wouldn’t be seeing you around here tonight after your dramatic departure this morning.”
I smiled back at him. If he was working this evening, it meant he was healing up quickly.
“Every time I come in here, I say I’ll never come back. But here I am again.”
“You want me to find you-know-who for you?”
“If you mean Thierry, I think I’ll track him down myself. But not just yet.”
Zelda grabbed my hand across the bar. “Sorry about our new arrival. I had no idea she was going to be visiting.”
I tried to play dumb. Wasn’t all that hard. “Whoever do you mean?”
“ ‘Queen Vee,’ of course.”
“Oh, her.” I forced myself to laugh. “Why ever would I have a problem with her being here?”
Zelda studied me for a second. “Oh, no reason.” She and George shared a look. “No reason at all.”
“Speaking of Veronique”—I glanced around the dimly lit club again—“any word on how long she’s planning on staying in town?”
“Haven’t asked,” George said. “She doesn’t like me that much, don’t ask me why. But it seems indefinite.”
“Her visit or her not liking you?” Zelda laughed.
“Probably both.”
I smiled. �
��It’s nice that she’s come for a visit. She seems to be a very interesting person.”
They shared another look. “Come off it, Sarah,” Zelda said. “You don’t have to pretend with us. We know you’re jealous as hell.”
I just raised my eyebrows at them and drank my shot a little quicker than necessary.
“Jealous? Why ever would I be jealous?”
George glanced at Zelda. “She’s totally jealous. And can you blame her? Thierry is to die for. Believe me, if I had a chance… I’d… well, I won’t get into any details until I check your IDs to make sure you’re old enough to hear what I’d do.”
“Actually,” I said, “I’m not all that interested in married men, especially the ones who leave that little piece of information out about themselves. So, you’re welcome to him.”
“Ah.” Zelda poured me another shot, this time vodka.
“Do I see our little fledgling’s shields are slipping a bit, the more we talk about this?”
My lip quivered. “No. Just forget it, okay? I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about anything.” I let out a long, shaky sigh. “Unless, of course, you two happen to know anything about this cure for vampirism I’ve been hearing about.”
“A cure?” George played with the salty rim of one of the drinks he had yet to deliver.
“Doesn’t ring a bell for me.”
“I know about it,” Zelda said simply. “Didn’t I mention it to you?”
I was surprised. “I thought you were just joking around. So, how? What? Where?”
She laughed. “One question at a time, okay? First of all, yes, there is a cure, if you want to call it that. Very hard to come by, and not everybody knows about it. It’s some kind of secret experimental thing.”
“Are you sure?” George said. “How come I’ve never heard of it?”
“I guess you’re just not hanging with the right people, Georgie. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you get to know a lot of people. Add to that my current vocation as an underpaid and overworked bartender, and everyone is practically tripping over each other to tell you things.”
I was stunned. “Have you ever tried to find out more about it?”
She shrugged. “Why would I? I’m not interested in being cured. I like being a vampire. It makes life so much more interesting.”
“How about you?” I said to George. “Would you want to be cured?”
He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe once upon a time. Not anymore. I mean, look at me. If I wasn’t a vampire, I’d be in my eighties by now, cooped up in an old-age home praying for a clean bedpan. Besides, how much fun could it possibly be to tan wrinkled skin?”
Zelda leaned against the bar counter. “Are you saying that you’re looking for a cure?”
“Maybe.” I frowned. “It was one thing before I knew there really was a cure, and now I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with finding out Thierry’s married, does it?”
“No,” I said quickly. “All I know is, nobody tried to kill me before, or called me a monster. I could see myself in a mirror, and my teeth were a normal, nonpointy shape. My life was a whole hell of a lot less complicated, that’s for sure.”
“Life’s no fun without complications,” Zelda said.
“I guess that depends on your definition of complicated.”
I watched a large, pale man approach George and tap his shoulder roughly.
“We’ve been waiting for our drinks for a long time. You want a tip, or what?”
George picked up the tray full of drinks and handed it to the man with barely a glance.
“Here you go. You can keep the tip.”
The vampire grumbled about lousy service, but then dutifully carried the tray back to his table while trying his best not to spill anything.
“You see, Sarah, honey?” George put an arm around my shoulder. “Things are only as complicated as you allow them to be.”
“You know what? I think you might be right. I am making too much of a big deal out of all this stuff. I’m going to stop caring at all. And the next time some big, self-important asshole decides to play with my emotions, I’m going to wipe the floor with his ass…” I trailed off. Zelda’s and George’s faces had blanked and they weren’t looking directly at me anymore. In fact, they were trying to look anywhere else but at me.
I slowly turned around. Thierry stood directly behind me, his head cocked to one side and his expression neutral—although I could have sworn I saw a trace of amusement slide behind his silvery gray eyes.
“You’ve come back,” he said blandly, as though he hadn’t just overheard every word of my little rant.
“Just like a bad penny.” Then I frowned. Where did that expression come from, anyhow?
I’m not sure I even used it right.
“Did you want to see me?”
“Not particularly.” I was recovering my composure. Hey, it came and it went. Mostly, these days it went. “But I do need to speak with you.”
“Then perhaps you could have simply used the telephone.”
I sighed. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Now, not to sound like Joan Rivers or anything, but can we talk?”
“Of course.” He motioned toward his booth in the corner.
I shook my head. “In your office? I’d prefer something a little more private.” He raised an eyebrow and I glowered at his amused expression. “Not that kind of private.”
“Unfortunately, my office is in use right now for another private matter.”
Then I guessed the booth would have to do. I didn’t want to debate conversation locations for much longer. Just talking to Thierry was making me nervous, and not particularly in a good way. I wanted this over with as fast as possible, so I slid into the booth and George brought us over a couple of drinks. He winked at me before he left us alone.
“So,” Thierry said after a moment, “what is it you wish to speak with me about… in private?”
Was it wrong that I wanted to kiss him, even after everything that had happened? Rain kisses on his beautiful face and down his neck and along the edge of his oh-so-black silk shirt. Tuck his stray dark hair behind his ear and whisper how I felt about him, loud enough so only he could hear it?
Yes, it was wrong. It was very, very wrong.
“It’s about the hunters,” I finally said.
“What about the hunters?” He seemed surprised, as if he’d expected me to bring up another subject. What other subject could I possibly have to talk to Thierry de Bennicoeur about? Hmm, let me think.
“They’re planning something this year. Something big. Big enough that they believe that they can kill every last vampire in the city this time around.”
He pursed his lips. “Yes, I already know all of that.”
“You do?” Of course he’d know that. He was the master, after all. He probably just knew things through osmosis or that vampire telepathy I’d been hoping for.
“Was that all, Sarah?”
“No, that’s not all. I also have it on good authority that there’s a vampire who’s selling the rest of us out. Feeding information to the hunters.”
He took a sip of his cranberry juice and then placed it back soundlessly on the table. “And who are you getting your information from, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not simply a matter of believing or not. It is a harsh accusation to say that there is a traitor in our midst. I simply wish to know who is telling you these things and what proof they may have.”
I felt the sudden urge to lie, or make up some outrageous story about where I’d heard the rumor. But I didn’t. “Quinn told me.”
Thierry leaned against the back of the booth. “Quinn.”
“That’s right.”
“The hunter who is now a vampire.”
“Thanks for the recap. Yes, that’s him.”
“When did he tell you this?�
�
This time I took a sip of my own drink before answering. George had been nice enough to bring me over a newbie special, heavy on the “special” rather than the “newbie.” I guess I was officially ready for the grown-up vampire drinks.
“Tonight,” I answered after a moment.
“Tonight.”
“You don’t have to repeat everything I say.”
“It helps me to understand you better. And when you saw Quinn tonight, where were you?
Did he search you out to give you this piece of questionable information?”
“No.” I struggled to keep my face as blank as his. “Actually, we were on a date.”
His expression gave nothing away, not that I expected it to. What, did I think he was going to leap out of his seat in a rage of jealousy? Not bloody likely.
“I didn’t realize that the two of you were dating.”
I shrugged. “You know what they say about opposites attracting.”
“Yes, that is very true. So, the two of you, is this serious? This relationship between vampire and ex-vampire hunter?”
“Well, we’re not planning on getting married, or anything like that,” I said with special emphasis on the married part.
“And you trust this… Quinn?”
Good question. Did I trust him? Not particularly. Did I think he was lying when he told me about the hunter’s plans? No, it was the truth. That much I had faith in.
“I believe him.”
“I didn’t ask if you believe him. I asked if you trust him.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Frankly, Thierry, I’m having a little trouble trusting anybody these days. Call me crazy.”
“And you decided that you needed to tell me this news. Why come to me?”
I shrugged again. “You seem to be the man everyone answers to around here. They call you master, for God’s sake. Like, what century is this? Anyhow, I just figured that you would be the one to tell something like this to. So consider yourself told. My job is done. I don’t want anything to do with it. In fact, if I can move up my trip to Mexico, I’ll be out of here before any of this even goes down.”